


Live for the Moment

by Ethereal_Wishes



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 13:17:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12458580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ethereal_Wishes/pseuds/Ethereal_Wishes
Summary: Post War Fic-Carol and Daryl go on a supply run. It storms, and they're forced to bed down for the night, which leads to a confession of unrequited feelings which have been kindling between them for a long time.





	Live for the Moment

Live for The Moment

By:

Ethereal_Wishes

A/AN: This is my challenge fic for Ninelives. It was a trope bingo, and I used the middle line: Candles, pining, missed chances, nightmares, and confessions as my free space with a few more thrown in.

The war with the Saviors is over, and everyone in Alexandria must rebuild. Carol's arms are wrapped securely around his waist as he speeds down the desolate highway. Rick has sent them on a run, and Carol had been adamant about joining him. Her refusal to leave his side since the war ended still baffles him. They've ridden several miles, and it's nearly dusk. Daryl slows his bike to a stop when he spies an abandoned subdivision.

"Do you think we'll find any supplies in there?" Carol asks him as he cuts the motor off.

"Maybe, 'less it's already been looted," he replies, sliding off the bike.

Carol follows close behind, her rifle slung securely over her shoulder as they approach the array of houses. Her presence brings him a comfort he doesn't realize he's missed. He halts at the door of the first house – a two story with white vinyl siding which has begun chipping away, and a green roof.

He shimmies the lock, opening it easily. She follows him into the house. The house is relatively quiet, but Carol knows there could be walkers lurking on the second floor. "I'm going to have a look upstairs," she tells him, squeezing his shoulder lightly.

Daryl nods. "Be careful, I'll check the downstairs."

Carol makes her way upstairs, shining her flashlight as she ascends each step. There are two bedrooms which are empty. One of the rooms appears to be a little girl's room, and her heart clenches as a memory of Sophia resurfaces. She quickly shuts the door before exploring the other room. It sports a queen sized bed and is neatly made. She brushes her fingers over the royal-blue duvet, thinly coated with dust. She wonders if the family ever made it home before the virus hit, and it seems they didn't because everything is in pristine condition.

"Find anything up 'ere'?" Daryl asks as he stands in the doorway, observing her.

Carol shakes her head. "No, it's vacant, and untouched by walkers, unless you found something downstairs," she remarks, turning to face him.

Daryl shakes his head. "Nothin', but there's some canned goods in the kitchen. Storm's brewin' up outside. Got dark real quick. I think we should bed down for the night and check the other places in the mornin'."

Carol flinches as she hears the rumble of thunder in the distance, her mind going back to the constant gunfire they'd heard during their battles with the saviors. Daryl touches her shoulder gently, sensing her unease.

"You a'ight'?" he asks, his eyes flashing with concern.

"Gotta be," she says, glancing back at the darkened doorway. "We should find some candles, and see what's in those cans."

Daryl follows her wordlessly back downstairs, and they barricade the door. A steady rain begins to fall outside, thumping against the roof. Carol guides her flashlight to the cupboards, grinning triumphantly when she finds some candles.

"See if there's matches in one of those drawers," she tells Daryl. He begins to rummage through a few, producing a book of matches. "It's got three in it," he says, handing it to her.

"Great work, Pookie," she smirks, collecting the matches from him, and immediately lighting the candles. He feels his ears burn from her reference to the old pet name, though he doesn't know why.

The light from the candles illuminate her features, and Daryl feels his breath hitch in his throat as he admires her. She's so beautiful, and is reminiscent of a painting, but he says nothing because he doesn't know how to express his feelings for her. He realized he had feelings for her after she'd been banished from the prison, but he doesn't know how to tell her. He's certain she doesn't feel the same.

"It looks like we'll be having canned peaches and corn tonight for supper. You okay with that?" Carol inquires, glancing at him.

"Yeah, that'll be fine," he mutters as she opens up the cans, dumping their contents on a plate. They move into the living room. Carol places the candles on the coffee table, and they begin to eat. Lightning crackles across the sky, the sound of thunder following it with a loud bang

Carol stiffens, placing her half eaten plate of food on the coffee table. Daryl notices her disdain as he sets his empty plate aside. "You a'ight'?"

Carol shakes her head. "No, I guess I'm not," she mumbles, rubbing her arms to generate warmth.

"You wanna talk bout' it?" he continues, hoping she'll open up to him, just this once. She's been so guarded, and he understands why, but he wishes she would shoulder some of the burden with him. He wants her to know she isn't alone.

Daryl scoots closer to her on the loveseat, and drapes his arm around her shoulders. He feels her relax as she lays her head against his shoulder, and he knows his touch is welcome. "S'wrong, Carol? You ain't gotta keep everything bottled up, y'know."

"I'm just afraid this era of peace we've created for ourselves won't last. It never does. I've thought of leaving again once we return from this run. I can't bear to fight anymore, or lose more people. We've already lost so many," she confides in him, her voice so fragile, he thinks she might break.

The rain begins to pound harder against the roof, and the wind picks up, whipping through the trees on the property. "S'time to start livin'. Losin' people's hard, but you can't keep runnin'. That ain't the answer. We're a family, and it's incomplete without y'."

Carol meets his gaze, daringly cupping his cheek, brushing her fingers across the stubble along his jaw. "That night at my cottage, when you came to visit me, why did you lie about Glenn and Abraham?"

Daryl paused, the vulnerability in her eyes making his heart rate increase. "Because … Because I knew you'd go after Negan without a second thought, and I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't watch y' just walk into a war zone, left at that bastard's mercy. I didn't tell y' because I wanted to protect y'."

"But that wasn't your call to make," she counters, her warm breath ghosting against his lips as she etches closer to him.

Daryl shudders at her close proximity. "No, it wasn't, but it kept y' alive, and I don't regret it," he manages to say.

She's just inches from his lips now, her own curving into a small smile. "How chivalrous of you," she mumbles, brushing her lips ever so gently against his.

Daryl is stunned, not quite sure how to react at first, but then he relaxes, cradling the back of her head with his hand, deepening the kiss. She tastes strongly of peaches, and something uniquely Carol as he plunders her mouth with his tongue. She moans softly, urging him to continue.

Daryl hasn't kissed a woman in ages. He doesn't like to be touched. It repulses him, and he's certain it's due to the abuse his father subjected him to. Carol's fingers have traveled up the hem of his shirt, making lazy circles along his taut muscles. He revels in her featherlight touch, and it sends heat pooling in his belly. Her gentle ministrations don't make him cringe, instead they make him crave her in a way he hasn't yearned for another. He's had a few drunken one night stands in the past, but nothing like this.

His lips trail from her lips to the smooth line of her throat, and then he's fiddling with the buttons on her blouse, until her white cotton bra is visible. "S' okay?" he asks, searching her eyes for any sign of distress.

"Yes, please," she nods, spurring him onward. "But I don't want to have sex on this couch. Take me back upstairs to the room we were in earlier."

Carol's gasps - as he hoists her into his arms - turn into a nervous giggle as he practically jogs up the stairs. He deposits her gently onto the bed, pulling his shirt over his head and then unfastens his trousers. It isn't long before they've rid each other of the rest of their clothing. He kisses her reverently as if she's the most precious treasure in the world to him, and truthfully she is. Her nails graze his backside as he shunts his hips against her. The euphoria of being so closely connected to him ignites a fire within her soul. His thrusts become more erratic, and she gasps as he comes – a guttural moan emitting from his throat. He kisses her eyes, nose, and cheeks, resting his forehead against hers as he catches his breath before he slips out of her.

They lie side by side in relative silence for a few moments. Carol's hand gravitates toward his, and she interlaces their fingers as he turns to face her. She snuggles closer to him, pulling the duvet over them as she lays her head against his chest. His hand curls in her hair, but no words are exchanged between them. The storm has passed, but it continues to rain – a steady thud against the shingled roof, lulling them to sleep.

Sometime during the night, they've shifted positions, and Carol has left his arms. Her cries awaken him, and he jolts up in bed, his heart hammering in his chest as he gazes at her. She's sobbing softly in her sleep as he pulls her into his arms again. He shakes her gingerly, and she gazes at him drowsily.

"I'm sorry, but y' were havin' a nightmare. I had t' wake y'," he explains.

"Thank you," she whispers softly, snuggling closer to him.

"Y' can talk about it if it'll make y' feel better," he reassures her.

She shifts in his arms, turning over to face him. She wipes tears from her eyes before she attempts to speak. "I kept dreaming of everyone we'd lost - Sasha, Eugene, Rosita, Ezekiel - and countless others whose names I never knew from the Hilltop and Kingdom. It doesn't matter though, because I still fought alongside them. They all had a story."

"It don't ever get easier, but yer alive, and that counts for somethin'," he says, kissing her brow affectionately.

"I don't know what I'd ever do if I lost you, Daryl," she chokes out, stifling back a sob.

"I'm right here, ain't I? Stop thinkin' 'bout it. Just live for the moment. S'all we got," he retorts, his words soothing the frayed edges of her soul.

"You're right. It's all we've got, so no more secrets between us. However long I've got left, I want to spend that time with you," she tells him.

Daryl grants her one of his rare smiles. "Sorry I didn't properly court y' before I took y' to bed."

Carol chuckles, jabbing him in the ribs playfully. "I'm not sorry. I've wanted this for a long time," she confesses.

"Fer how long?" he inquires, raising his brow at her inquisitively.

"Since the prison," she says, the first light of dawn peeking through the window.

"Since y' asked me to fool around?" he wonders aloud, awaiting her answer.

"Oh, yes, my leather wearing, motorcycle riding prince," she chuckles, tangling her bare legs around his.

"Ain't no prince," he mumbles quietly, a faint blush coloring his cheeks.

Carol taps his nose playfully. "No, you're not, but I still love you anyway."

As the words escape her lips, his heart clenches within his chest. He stifles back an onslaught of tears, because no one has ever told him they love him, not once in his life has he heard those three little words.

"I don't reckon anyone has ever loved me before, my folks never said it anyway," he mumbles as his insecurities rear their ugly head. He can still remember his father's searing words as he branded his back with a belt. He'd only ever been called worthless his entire life, including much worse. He knows the others in the group care about him, but they don't love him.

Carol cups his face within her hands, brushing away stray tears as they leak from his eyes. "I'll tell you a hundred times a day and show you with every beat of my heart if that's what it takes, Daryl Dixon."

Daryl leans his forehead against hers, giving her a silent nod as he closes his eyes, allowing her declaration of love to wash over him. Something calloused and heavy begins to break within his soul, and he knows its because Carol has gifted him with the atonement of her precious love. For years he's longed for someone to love him, and maybe before long he'll be able to return her affections, learn how to truly love her like she deserves.

It begins to rain again, but Daryl isn't in any hurry to dress as he lazes in bed with her. She wordlessly drifts back off, but she doesn't have to say anything, because he's still basking in her declaration of love for him. He's never really thought about marriage, but maybe it's time to settle down. They've only begun this thing between them. He isn't sure how to label it yet, but he wonders if Carol considers them wed since she's told him she loves him, and they've already consummated their relationship. He stifles back a yawn, and closes his eyes, allowing himself a few more hours of shuteye before they greet the day. He isn't worried about the future when all they have is the moment, and he plans to make the most of it with the woman he adores more than anyone … safe in his arms.


End file.
